notes from a morning in the High Court
Back on 24 July this year I spent a morning at Wellington High Court. I’d never been to the High Court before. Below are a couple of idle thoughts on the adventure
The High Court is so much nicer than the District Court, everything: the carpets, the walls, the decoration, the furnishings in the court rooms, everything!
Still the same old shambolic simulacrum of a system, though, with everybody shuffling papers, trying to find out where people are, the occasional technical glitch, breakdowns in communication. And huge, huge delays. The Bill of Rights Act guarantees the right to be tried in a timely manner. The courts are not able to do that. If you are charged with a crime you can see years of your life go down the shitter while you are still legally innocent. If are found guilty, well, that’s one thing. But if the crown fails to prove their case, you’re walking out into the world trying to pick up the pieces of the life you used to have.
But within that there was a lot of humanity. The judge, for example, taking the care to acknowledge the family members present in court in support of the accused. The use of Te Reo unpretentiously with no translation as a matter of course. The judge talking directly to the accused. I have seen good things happen in the District Courts, but I have never walked out of a District Court so impressed with the fundamental humanity and decency of the people working there.